


I'm caught in a crossfire that I don't understand

by MadameMarie



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode: s02e15 Mai Ka Wa Kahiko (Out of the Past), First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-09
Updated: 2013-01-09
Packaged: 2017-11-24 06:17:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/631357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadameMarie/pseuds/MadameMarie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coda for episode 15 of season 2: Mai Ka Wa Kahiko. Steve needs to talk to Danny about his increasingly cowboyish behaviour and lax attitude towards due process, even though he likes Danny better when he's breaking the rules.  Small element of hurt/comfort, but mostly affectionate fluff and nervous gibbering.</p><p>  <i>Steve is forced to lean over and point out to Danny that if they drown him, he won’t be able to tell them anything. Danny replies “Hey, I’m trying to drown him. He killed a friend of mine, ok?”, and Steve steps back; concern, amusement, and another feeling he can't quite identify forming a strange little knot in his stomach.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm caught in a crossfire that I don't understand

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Badlands" by Bruce Springsteen. This is my first H50 fanfic, and it'll probably turn into a series of vignettes. Stay tuned :)

The realisation doesn’t hit Steve immediately. It comes in the form of several clues, rationed out to him over the course of a few weeks.

The first clue comes the week before Chin Ho’s wedding. Steve has to go deal with the rapidly escalating Joe White/Hiro Noshimuri situation, so he sends Danny and Chin to go suss out Rafe Tong. Danny, Chin later tells Steve, armed a World War 2 era Mk2 grenade and made Tong hold the strike lever down.

“...while we were questioning him, AND he was handcuffed around the leg of the kitchen table!” Chin finishes resolutely. Steve laughs, and Chin tries to frown at him, but instead smiles in spite of himself.

The second clue Steve gets on the day that US Marshal Dave Collins is killed in the bathroom of a Hawaiian Airlines flight. Steve and Danny go out to pick up Sal Painter, Painter runs, Danny hip-and-shoulders the guy into the motel pool and then proceeds to nearly drown him in order to get information out of him.

Steve is forced to lean over and point out to Danny that if they drown him, he won’t be able to tell them anything. Danny replies “Hey, I’m trying to drown him. He killed a friend of mine, ok?”, and Steve steps back; concern, amusement, and another feeling he can't quite identify forming a strange little knot in his stomach.

The final clue comes at the end of that same day when Danny shoots a cuffed and unarmed Rick Peterson in the leg. Steve understands why Danny did this, of course he does, because Steve would have done the exact same thing if Danny hadn’t gotten to Peterson first. Nobody fucks with Grace Williams and gets away with it. 

Nevertheless, as the boss of Five-0, it would be remiss of Steve not to talk to Danny, particularly given Governor Denning’s aversion to Steve’s usual brand of cowboy policing. Danny is supposed to be the voice of reason, dammit, the rational one who is there to remind Steve about due process, not the other way around. The last thing Steve needs is for Denning to find out about Danny’s newfound loose interpretation of police procedure and start threatening to shut them down again. But Steve likes it. Danny looks more alive when he’s breaking the rules than he ever did when he was following them, and that’s when Steve puts all the clues together and the realisation hits him.

He gets two Longboards out of the bar fridge in his office, and dials Danny’s desk phone. A moment later, Danny’s in his office.

“Beer, Steve?” Danny says when Steve offers him an uncapped bottle. “It’s nine o’clock in the morning, AND we’re on duty. Why are we drinking this early? Did something happen to you last night? What’s going on?” He is ranting, but he accepts the beer anyway.

Steve smiles almost imperceptibly and takes a long draw on his beer. He’s never had to discipline any of his staff before, much less Danny, and he doesn’t want to do it. It’s not that he doesn’t know how to do it - his years in active service taught him how to discipline lower ranking officers and enlisted men, but this isn’t the Navy, as Danny has reminded him countless times, so Steve really has no idea how normal people in normal jobs deal with things like this. Particularly seeing as he doesn’t actually want to tell him off, because he likes this new Danny. Chin and Kono aren’t in yet, so it’s now or never, Steve thinks to himself. The two of them lean against Steve’s desk, and Steve gives Danny a sidelong look. 

Danny looks tired, Steve guesses he didn’t get much sleep last night. He probably spent the night with Rachel and Grace, Steve knows there’s no way Danny would let Gracie out of his sight after what Peterson did to them yesterday.

“How’s Rachel and Grace?” Steve asks finally.

“They’re OK. Grace, Gracie is amazing. She’s a kid, you know, and kids just bounce back. Nothing phases her. She sat in that storage locker for hours yesterday, but then I shot the lock off and you cut her free and I scooped her up and everything was right in her world. I barely slept at all last night. Rachel’s mad at me for shooting Stan and I can’t say I blame her but I also can’t say that I didn’t enjoy it just a little bit. Which is probably why she’s mad at me...” he trails off and sips from his beer.

Steve snorts. “Yeah that doesn’t surprise me, buddy,” and he leans over and clinks bottles with Danny. “But in fact, I actually wanted to talk to you about that.”

“About what?” Danny asks. “About me shooting Stan? Because believe me if I thought it would have ended any other way I wouldn’t have done it but Peterson had me by the balls so what choice did I have? And not to mention --” Danny is cut off when Steve interrupts him.

“No, it’s not about shooting Stan. Stand down, soldier. It’s about shooting Peterson. And nearly drowning Sal Painter. And that little incident with the kid and the grenade a few weeks ago. What’s going on, Danny? Since when are you taking tips from my playbook?” 

A small knot forms in Danny’s stomach, but he blusters in an effort to cover it up. “Am I in trouble? Are you telling me off, Lieutenant Commander McGarrett? Because let me tell you, if you are, maybe you should take a look in the mirror, because you, my friend, are far more of a loose cannon than I will ever be.” He is waving his beer around and Steve is thankful in this moment that the drink is in a bottle and not a glass, because otherwise the beer would be splashed all over him and his office.

Steve gives Danny another sidelong look. “Are you finished, Danno, or do you have a few more words to throw together?”

“No, actually. I am finished.” Danny sets the beer bottle down and rests his hand on the edge of the desk.

Steve mimics this action. Their hands are close together and Steve can feel the warmth of Danny’s hand next to his.“I did want to talk to you. But it’s not to tell you off. Well, not really. It’s more to just tell you to wind it down a bit. Dial back the crazy, yeah? But you’re not in trouble, you know? Just try to be a bit less like me, and a bit more like, well, yourself.”

Steve finishes talking, takes a breath, and looks at Danny, who is looking at him, slackjawed. Steve can hear the lack of conviction in his voice, and Danny realises Steve is nervous and he can barely hide his glee. “Did you just gibber at me, Steve? Are you legitimately gibbering right now? You’re gibbering, I can’t believe it.”

“No!” Steve says loudly. “I’m not gibbering. You’re gibbering. How many times do you have to ask me the same question?”

Danny smirks at him. “Seek first to understand--”

“--and then to be understood,” Steve cuts him off. “Yes Danny, I’ve heard this one before.”

Danny rolls his eyes, picks up his beer and drains it in one mouthful. “All right, Super SEAL. Do we actually have anything on today, or are we just going to sit here and spin our wheels until five PM?"

Steve says nothing, but takes a sip of his beer, and Danny is startled when he realises that Steve is gently rubbing his little finger over Danny’s little finger. A warm feeling starts spreading inside him. All those little touches he gives Steve - the hand on the back when they’re busting into some scumbag’s house, the casual slap or wrist grab during conversation, the familiar lean when they’re examining evidence, the hugs whenever one of them has escaped certain death - Danny doesn’t do any of those by accident. He’s been distractingly attracted to Steve since the day they first drew guns on each other over Steve’s father’s Mercury Marquis but never thought that Steve reciprocated those feelings.

“You caused me a lot of paperwork yesterday,” Steve says, as he cautiously slides his hand over Danny’s. Danny interlaces their fingers and there they sit, perched on the edge of Steve’s desk, holding hands like a couple of schoolkids.

“Paperwork, eh?” Danny scoffs. “Well, I know you like paperwork, buddy, so I set out yesterday to cause you as very much as as I possibly could.”

Steve squeezes Danny’s hand. “Son of a bitch,” he says, but there is no malice in his voice. He and Danny are looking at each other now, and Steve picks up his beer with his free hand and finishes off the bottle. 

Steve says something - what, Danny doesn’t know - because he is completely distracted by Steve’s lips, and the way they look with the few droplets of beer that remain on them. He can hear his heart rattling around in his chest and he’s amazed that Steve can’t hear it too. It is so loud he can hear it in his temples, and feel his pulse thumping away.

Danny slides over closer to Steve. The distance between them wasn’t very big to start with, but to Danny it felt like an endless gulf. They are sitting so close together now that they are touching from shoulder to knee. Danny can feel the heat radiating off Steve’s body, and he wonders how many British Thermal Units Steve is giving off. This makes him think of Rachel and he almost laughs but then he doesn’t when he realises that he can smell Steve - the faint smell of saltwater mixed in with generic man-smell and the top note of the beer they’ve just consumed, and all the blood rushes away from his head and Danny feels like he’s going to faint. He rests his head on Steve’s shoulder, trying to stop his head spinning.

Steve turns towards Danny, drinking in the smell of him, becoming almost intoxicated by their closeness. Danny’s so warm, that Steve wonders how he hasn’t spontaneously combusted yet. Danny’s eyes are bright and glassy, and his lips are parted, but he looks so weary that Steve doesn’t know whether to kiss him or drive him home and tuck him into bed. Steve puts his arm around Danny and draws him closer, Danny’s head still resting on Steve’s shoulder.

“I think--” Danny starts, but he doesn’t get to finish that sentence because Steve’s lips crash down onto his, Steve’s free hand sliding behind his head and into his hair. Steve tastes like beer and seawater, and all Danny can think is that this feels so different to kissing Rachel or Gabrielle - they were soft, smooth and curved where Steve is hard, prickly and angular, but Danny doesn’t care, because different doesn’t mean wrong. Nothing has ever felt so right. 

Steve takes great pleasure in messing up Danny’s perfectly quiffed hair as he kisses him. He’s briefly grossed out by the amount of hairspray Danny has put in his hair, and resultantly has a weird mental image of Danny on that TV show Jersey Shore, but forgets about it immediately when Danny’s hands make their way around his waist and his fingers slip into the waistband of Steve’s pants. Steve leans back and Danny falls on top of him. He becomes acutely aware of the hardness in his own pants, and rolls his hips against Danny’s, causing Danny to let out a low moan and shift a little on top of him. One of them knocks over a beer bottle, and it rolls off Steve’s desk, shattering on the floor.

That is when Steve comes to his senses. He may be a lot of things, but he’s not the sort of man to have sex on his desk in a government building. He breaks off the kiss, leans back to look at Danny. His blue eyes are shining and his cheeks are flushed and and his hair is all mussed up. Steve thinks that Danny has never looked better. Danny smiles goofily at him.

“What do you think, Danno?”

“I think we should get out of here. Go somewhere with a locking door and walls that aren’t made of glass.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Steve says, and slides off the desk. Ever the neat freak, he straightens up his things, clears away the broken bottle, and then leads Danny out of the offices, hand in hand.

“You know, I can’t believe you messed up my hair, McGarrett,” Danny says indignantly.

“You look hot like that. I did it on purpose.”

“I hate you.”

“You do not. You love me.”

Danny smiles up at Steve. For the first time in his life, Danny has nothing to say.


End file.
